Nam Ou

The Nam Ou, which winds from the Northeastern tip of Laos until it joins the Mekong at Luang Prabang, is amongst the dwindling number of wild rivers left on the planet. There is no dam along its course, and it is bridged in only a few places above Muang Khua.

As the dry season takes hold, the river starts putting forward its wilder side, sporting knife edged rocks, swirling eddies and back channels, and Class II-III rapids.

The shores are lined with a jungle mantle that climbs the mountains on either side. Rocks and constantly changing silt beaches jut from shore.

There are all manner of tiny villages here and there in the jungle, clinging to the steep hillsides. People fish the river, grow vegetables in the silt dunes, and generate electricity from small turbine generators floating on bamboo rafts.

Pigs, cattle and water buffalo root, feed, and wallow along the banks.

This will all change very soon. An access road is being punched through this rugged river course. The access road will bring Chinese development money along with the proposed plan to dam the Nam Ou in at least two places. The wild river will be wild no longer, and the boat travel will cease as the roads are built and paved where there now are no roads.

I could mourn the loss of this wildness, and I will. I may never get back to this river before it is tamed. But I'm not Lao, so it is an elitist sort of mourning. The Lao villagers want electricity and good roads. They want better access to markets for their goods. And the Chinese want Lao resources, so they will bring development money to Laos as fast as they can get the raw materials out of Laos.

As villages get electricity, Satellite dishes follow. With television comes the promise of a better life through consumer goods. Of course the Lao people want dams, and electricity and roads. They want to live with the comforts we westerners both take for granted, and export to the third world.

This country is not my little tourist playground, frozen in time. Laos has changed in just the one short year since I was last here. I would love there to be perfect, remote places that remain unchanged, but that is just not the way of it.

My presence, and the presence of other travelers, is the very engine that brings about the change that many of
us wish would never happen. Travelers come, push further, tell others, they come as well, and soon the local people realize there is more
money to be made from trekking than traditional living. More trekking brings more guest houses, traveling gets easier and so more travelers arrive.

Today, I am thankful that I saw the Nam Ou before it is gone. Selfishly, I will cherish it as it is.